Work Text:
It is hard, if not impossible, to live life normally when the person you cherish the most abandons before you even have an opportunity to try to pull them back into your life.
Ivan’s own physical needs were severely neglected the first few days after Andrew had left him; he had to grow accustomed to making constant reminders towards himself to take care of things such as his own hunger or sleep. Whenever he laid down, he could feel every word Andrew said to him before leaving wrapping itself around his veins, then felt them proceed to tear apart his venous valves. Any thoughts of his former beloved friend that struck him right on the chest, which made Ivan feel even more restless; he refused to eat anything other than small meals. Even when he did eat anything, it made him feel more of a parasite — always hungry, always swallowing, yet no matter how many things went in, he always felt empty. He always felt such an emptiness inside him, before Andrew. Before him, before him. There was no life without him. There was no proper way of living before him.
For days on end Ivan also could not help but feel preoccupied about Andrew. From the moment he made the decision to leave his apartment, he knew the other would have to deal with a world which he was definitely not prepared for; a world where his charms and attitudes would not work on others the way they did on Ivan. This, too, only fueled Ivan’s self hatred and deep disgust when he realized he had failed to protect the person he had always looked after, the one he promised to always protect, too. All softness Ivan had ever experienced came from Andrew himself, too. His absence ripped all meaning away from Ivan’s life like a peach pit.
The more he gave it thought; it was obvious Andrew would come back. Ivan did feel a great longing for him, but still held a deep hatred towards his actions and held him responsible for the terrible, terrible behaviors he had when talking to him. Ivan was just trying to help, after all, and he was met with nothing but poor treatment. ‘That’s what you get for helping people,’ Ivan repeated to himself in his own mind. ‘That is what you get for showing more than a drop of care towards someone who clearly doesn’t want it, but needs it more than anyone else.’
Ivan kept track of the amount of days Andrew had been gone. After two weeks had passed, he did not like nor try to take care of the things Andrew had left behind, then opted for avoiding or throwing out most of the things Andrew had either forgotten or deemed useless, much like how Andrew had treated his dear friend! He was not of use to him anymore, so that was probably the reason he had been discarded so easily. He had been probably replaced by someone who would never care about Andrew as half as much as Ivan did. Someone who would never devote themselves to the developer as deeply as Ivan did. Someone who probably only loved the exterior of Andrew; loved him for being likable and easygoing, but would abandon him as soon as he became even slightly upset. Nobody would love Andrew unconditionally! Ivan felt pity for both his friend and anyone else who would have to deal with him; after even a small argument, they would most definitely see the disagreeable, cynical man Andrew truly was.
Well, as much as he tried to offer himself those empty and false words of reassurance, Ivan would still often go into periods of time where he would withdraw from social interactions — he didn’t participate in those much, anyway — and succumb to the gnawing melancholic feeling he felt after now months of his beloved’s absence. Trying to find anything to get his mind away from painful thoughts, he went online. He asked questions, and oftentimes got answers. Most people told him to try new activities to move on, but Ivan truly held no interest in anything they suggested. Then, the other half of his replies said they sympathized with his feelings and that things got better. Again, just shallow words they used. They did not understand what Ivan was going through, and would never feel as strongly as he felt about Andrew. To try to mimic and pretend what Ivan felt was nothing short of mockery.
It went on like this for half a year and a little more; even holidays felt like a burlesque reminder of the day his friend had left. Then, Ivan had an idea, for it, he had to try to remember some of the things Andrew held a fondness for… Since he haunted Ivan’s thoughts so much, they might as well be the same person now.
What he could remember about Andrew was embedded deep into Ivan himself, so he did not have to worry about trying to copy his personality or speech patterns, so he decided to focus on the things the other man had shown interest in before. Recipes, maybe; no, Andrew didn’t truly love recipes but he needed them to survive alone after he got kicked out by his parents. Fighting? No, definitely not, Andrew probably did it as some weird form of self-harm. Sci-fi books from the mid 80’s? He had read them before for the sole purpose of having something in common with Andrew, they were Andrew’s favorite books and they were… okay, but he didn’t feel truly interested in them either.
… He has it now. Coding, game developing.
Yes, he could remember Andrew liked those things. He wasn’t a particularly well known game creator, but he was somewhat good at it. He was also not intimate with other game creators, at least not that Ivan knew of, and he was bright with his own ideas but lacked so much in his writing which made the stories he tried to tell feel immensely hollow. Still, he made no attempts to please him or anyone who criticized his writing, even constructively.
However, it would most definitely take Ivan a long time to learn how to code and script. Ivan could remember the nights Andrew spent sitting in front of his computer, and the other would usually watch silently from behind, feeling deep admiration for what he was able to do, but most importantly; for who Andrew had become as a person.
Ivan could vaguely remember how they became friends a few years ago. Andrew felt suffocated and as if he could not truly pursue and chase after his own dreams, bleeding from invisible wounds that he had only allowed Ivan to see; On one hand, it tore Ivan apart to see him feeling like that. Feeling as if he had to shove everything he truly loved into a corner, away from any possibly judging eyes. On the other hand, it eased Ivan’s mind to know that Andrew felt like he could mostly — or only, actually, — rely on Ivan. If he only relied on Ivan, then he could ensure Andrew’s well-being. If he could ensure Andrew’s well-being, then the other would start to associate feeling happy and stable with Ivan himself. If he did so, then Andrew would have never left.
Of course, this never managed to come to fruition; Andrew’s stupid friends had to get in the way.
Well, focusing on game developing again— Ivan found it hard to focus on any of the tutorials he managed to find online. One of the videos he watched was very helpful and easy to understand in its own way, but it lacked any excitement for Ivan that could have possibly been stirred within Andrew. Well, the more Ivan thought of Andrew, the more he started to pay attention to the tutorials instead of lending them only divided attention. ‘A kind of challenge,’ he thought. ‘I could use this to prove my own love and devotion for Andrew,’ a smile crossed Ivan’s lips as he thought about it. It was a hard skill to learn, something which took weeks if not months to master, and it was definitely something that no one else would even try for someone such as Andrew himself.
Ivan’s daily lessons had now been completely transformed. They once made him feel sleepy and bored, but now they were the part of his day that he looked forward to the most. Ivan would listen to the people explaining how to script and rig models with utmost attention, only pausing the videos when he found it necessary to write something down or to tab out and try it out himself.
Something that occupied Ivan’s mind was what he would do with all this knowledge. Andrew was a role model for other developers, both because of his ideas and because of what he dared to do. He was never caught copying popular games outright, but giving them his own twist, which earned him a good amount of respect and a name within the dev community.
Many times after thinking and questioning himself the previous thought over and over, Ivan attempted to imitate what Andrew did and set his focus on trying to achieve the same as Andrew that he felt certain that there was no way he was going to fail. Ivan’s own games seemed good enough to himself, but nothing happened; nothing that he published worked. 100 players at most. As much as he wished to, he knew he could not ask for — or mention — this to Andrew, not only because their relationship was definitely complicated now, but because Ivan wanted to be anonymous if Andrew were to ever reach out to the developer he had tried to be.
Imitate Andrew, Imitating Andrew, Imitate Andrew, Imitating Andrew, Ivan repeated to himself. Something Andrew often did whenever his games seemed to be lacking any players was to look at what was most popular at the moment, copy the concept, then change it in some way or manner. Immediately after remembering this once again, he checked the top games. A certain one caught his eye, and upon playing, it managed to keep him hooked for a few minutes.
“Huh,” Ivan murmured to himself. “No wonder it’s popular,” he continued. “Let’s check this guy’s other games…”
Skimming the username, hovering on it for a few seconds before finally clicking on it; he saw the person’s display name— then was immediately met with the same feeling in his own veins of the early days following Andrew’s abandonment. Ivan’s hands rested on the desk in front of him, motionless and still. He immediately shut the device in front of him off. Thriving, alive, happy, Ivan thought to himself, almost saying it out loud, but he knew that could not be possible. His thoughts were now fixed on the words he could remember Andrew yelling at him before his departure, that was the real Andrew. He could not be happy now, not ever.
The Andrew he knew— this was not the person who had abandoned him in such a heartless manner. No, what he said to Ivan was not only a part of him; it was who Andrew truly was when he was not pretending or putting up an act to be likable. It showed how easily it was for him to discard others, how easily it was for him to abandon the things that supposedly meant everything to him. He was — and would never — be never fit to be associated with an even mildly popular game. Andrew would throw everything good in his life.
Ivan sat up. Never had he felt so lonely after the months following his friend’s abandon, thinking he was so far out from his reach that the only way he could ever feel close to Andrew again was by mimicking him, and he could still keep making games as if nothing had happened? When Ivan couldn’t even get out of bed— when he couldn’t even imagine a life without having Andrew by his side, — which he still struggled deeply to cope with, — he could live life as he… normally did?
He regretted his own past actions; it haunted Ivan for so long to know he had done something to hurt Andrew, and he wished deeply to change things and see if his friend would still be present in his life. Yes, Ivan was human and could get angry like anyone else, but he could also feel regret. Andrew thought of him as someone incapable of feeling anything akin to the feeling of guilt or regret.
Shaking hands turned on Ivan’s phone and stuttered to check Andrew’s social media, which, luckily, he used under the same pseudonym as the one on his profile, he could see him talking to some of his friends.
- Andrew?? is this you??
- Yeah :•). Too many things happened, I’m so happy to hear from you again.
- oh my god we need to catch up dude i missed you so much
- I missed you too buddy
Missed him. Missed him. What a funny joke that was. Ivan thought of him every waking moment of the day, Ivan got into everything the other liked to simply keep him close to his heart, to show that he cared, and someone could spit out emotionless words such as “I missed you” and receive a somewhat caring response from Andrew. A response from Andrew! Ivan would have to beg and pray to whatever deity there was to even get his friend to glance at his direction. Ivan wrote endless paragraphs, poems, essays about his love for Andrew. He etched the other’s name into every surface he could write it on. That person was a lowlife that did not deserve Andrew’s attention, they did not deserve to even be a passing thought in his mind. They did not deserve to be missed by anyone, much less Andrew.
He had seen the darkest parts of Andrew, and Ivan had shown himself vulnerable to the other man as well. Ivan, as he always did and would always do, loved him afterwards and reassured that every part of him was to be loved for what lasted for eternity. He truly loved him. He loved him so much he would die for him. He loved Andrew so deeply the only outlet for his absolute adoration was to slice away multiple layers of skin with a blade that glistened even in a dark environment. Ivan looked at Andrew with nothing but devotion and adoration, so why, why did someone so meaningless deserve to be more special than him? So what could have they possibly spent together, shown to each other, that made them so special to each other?
Ivan promised to always care for Andrew. And he did always care for him, it was true — it was uglier and messier than the average person’s ideal version of “care”, but he did care for Andrew. Ivan stayed true to his words, he cared for Andrew, loved and cherished him more than anyone and anything even now, even now. Oh, but Andrew couldn’t handle the fact that someone genuinely loved him for once, so to get rid of this absolutely nonsensical person, he abandoned them in the most cruel way he could think of. He wasn’t even worth apologizing to, but someone who held absolutely no writing nor any artistic skill was so important and meaningful! They were important enough to be missed! They were important enough to receive a response!
They were so much more important than whatever meaningless relationship Ivan and Andrew held in the past. Surely, it wasn’t something even worth trying to recover or looking back on their shared memories together. Ivan gave him everything he could get his hands on, everything under his possession; he gave him a roof, he gave him multiple works written about him in an obvious loving, rose-tinted light, he gave him warm food and even offered some of his warmth himself. If that was not enough, then what was? Then what could someone offer him that was enough?
Then what could Ivan do to make Andrew care? He still cared about Andrew’s wellness, — at least enough to check who he was talking to online— he still cared if he loved the same things as he did eight months ago, he still cared if he held a passion for his games or not, he cared. He cared and cares so much, yet Andrew could never do anything as simple as writing back to Ivan to apologize? He placed his full trust on someone for the first time, and this was what he did with it?
What was enough? What could ever be enough? What could he do to even be deserving of being loved? Would he have to cut his skin open and rip apart his bones for Andrew to even show any kind of care or regret for the way he left him? Andrew was always like this, he never cared or bothered to apologize until it was too late for redemption. Until Ivan already had permanent scars on himself. He was always like this. Like this. Like this. Begging for more, needing more to even feel anything similar to satisfaction. Eating away at what was left of the decomposing, dying, rotting skin of Ivan’s corpse and still asking for more. For more, for more.
If he had to die to be deserving of being a passing thought in Andrew’s mind, then so be it. Maybe as Ivan’s body becomes one with the clouds above in the sky, then Andrew would see what he did. When he’s falling, his last thoughts would definitely be of his dearest friend. Of how he was never enough for him, of how he could never do anything for him. How someone who would stop thinking about his existence as soon as the interaction was over was seemingly more deserving of the utmost attention and praise from Andrew.
Redirecting himself to turn the kitchen stove on, Ivan retook his steps towards the outside of his apartment and to the door that led towards the roof.
“… I hope you cry when you see me on the news, Andrew, I hope you cry.”